


The Dress

by thespiritualmultinerd



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Bi-Gender, Bunny figuring out some stuff, Gen, Genderfluid, Genderfluid Bunny, M/M, Non-Binary Bunny, Raffles Being Supportive, non-binary, some flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 12:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11989401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespiritualmultinerd/pseuds/thespiritualmultinerd
Summary: "There are so many things we never speak of – so much we never dare mention even to ourselves. But there are also things that does not need to be said out loud in order to be understood."





	The Dress

Exquisite. That was the only word I could find to describe it. It was the second time she had worn that dress in my presence, and once again I was mesmerized by it. Despite the fabric being heavy the dress appeared to be light as air, with its soft undertones and dainty, discrete flower pattern. Laces and ribbons bound it together in a harmonious fashion, simple but elegant. The lady herself was somewhat curvy and – I could not help but notice – about my own height, a combination that complimented the dress perfectly. Golden locks fell down along her cheeks and just about touched the pink velvet shoulders. It was as if she had sprung from nature herself, emerged in the middle of a meadow in May and walked into the city.

I could not take my eyes off that dress.

Suddenly I became aware of a shift in the conversation I had drifted away from, and realized that the lady’s attention was aimed at me.

"Bunny?"

Confused I looked at Raffles where he stood next to me, a mix of annoyance and curiosity on his face.

"Ms. Harper said good-day to you. Didn’t you hear?"

"Oh!"

I immediately arranged my features to what I hoped was an apologetic smile.

"I’m sorry, Ms. Harper. I must have drifted for a moment. Need some rest, I suppose," I added with a forged laugh.

"Oh, no worries," Ms. Harper said with a warm smile. "I’m afraid I have been talking Mr. Raffles’ ear off anyway."

"Not at all," Raffles retorted in his uncanny charming fashion. "I am always interested in what you have to say, Ms. Harper. Give my best to your father."

"I will. It was nice to see you again, Mr. Manders. Good-day to you both."

"Likewise, Ms. Harper. Good-day."

As she turned away and we continued our walk, Raffles let out an exasperated sigh and stretched his arms.

"Well, that was an excruciating experience."

"It was? I think she is rather lovely."

"Of course she is, but she is right that she can talk one’s ear off," he said with a roll of the eyes. "But I suppose you didn’t hear a word she said, considering how occupied you were staring at her."

There was a hint of accusation in his tone, and I felt myself blush.

"It wasn’t like that, Raffles."

He stopped for a moment to let a cab pass before we crossed the busy street.

"Bunny," he continued as if he had not heard me. "If you want to court a lady, the best way to go about it is not to look at her like a fool with a limited vocabulary. You should always listen to what she has to say, cling to every word as if your existence depended on it. Look into her eyes. Try to remember that next time."

I felt a surge of irritation.

"I am not interested in Ms. Harper, Raffles."

He took my arm absentmindedly as we found the sidewalk.

"I don’t blame you, Bunny. She is very attractive."

"No, really…"

"Next time I will excuse myself and leave you two to –"

"I was only looking at her dress!"

I had uttered the phrase with a bit more force than intended, and he stopped and looked at me with a curious expression. Embarrassed, I turned away from his intense gaze and pretended to be interested in an insignificant carriage that was currently passing by.

"Her dress?"

I heard the amusement in his voice and looked up to meet his eye again.

"Yes," I said defiantly. "Her dress. It was beautiful, didn’t you think so?"

"I suppose."

Cocking his head to the side, he searched my face with a twinkle in his blue eyes. A mischievous smile played on his lips. Rather annoyed, I raised my eyebrows and held his gaze. At last he looked away and continued walking.  

"I did not know you had such an interest in women’s fashion, Bunny."

I caught up with him and took his arm again, making an effort to sound casual when I said:

"I don’t. I mean, I don’t have any more interest in women’s fashion than in men’s fashion. I was only admiring a beautiful creation. Anyone would be happy to own a dress like that. I mean, any woman, of course…"

I was drifting again. I was not sure where I was going with this, or why it bothered me so. The sadness, however irrational, was clear in my voice. Apparently Raffles had heard it too, for he suddenly pressed my arm closer to his body and gave it a pat with his free hand.

"Of course," he said.

 

Later that same week I was walking towards the Albany alone. After our usual dinner at the club, Raffles had excused himself and told me to meet him later in his rooms. That in itself was part of our typical routine, but I could not help but wonder – and worry a little – about what he had been up to for the past hour. An elderly gentleman of some political importance had been sitting at a table close to ours, and Raffles had mentioned, with a dangerous light in his eyes that I was well familiar with by now, that the gentleman in question was in possession of a very valuable collection of silver coins, and that we perhaps should make further inquiries about it. I had leaned across the table and reminded him in a low voice that MacKenzie had been hot on our tracks the past couple of weeks and that he should not make any unnecessary moves – so we had agreed. He had leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

"You’re right, Bunny. We have enough to last us for a while, and a coin collection is not the most exciting treasure we could put our hands on anyway."

Relieved, I had agreed and we had continued talking of other matters. But now, alone in the dark and rainy street with only the dim lampposts as company, I could not help but wonder if he really had let the matter go. I recalled certain details in his behaviour during dinner that I had dismissed earlier – a tapping with the fingers on the table, a regular checking of the watch, eyes darting towards the doors on several occasions. Yes, there had definitely been something going on. I hurried up my steps, anger suddenly building inside my chest. It was not the first time he had gone behind my back, but that only made it all the more frustrating. I could only hope there would not be any major consequences.

The light was on in his rooms, and it was the first thing I noticed as I rounded the last corner and looked up at the Albany. Significantly relieved that he at least had made it home, I quickly headed for the doors and after a polite nod to the doorman made my way up the stairs with the key ready in hand. Before long I was inside the warmly lit hall and carefully closed the door behind me. Hanging up my hat, I called tentatively:

"Raffles?"

"Yes, Bunny, I’m in here."

His voice sounded joyful and content. With my hope sinking I entered the sitting room where I found him casually positioned on the sofa, still in his evening dress. I stopped in the doorway, suspiciously looking around the room. Raffles raised his eyebrows, taking out a Sullivan from his case.

"What is it, Bunny? You didn’t expect someone else to be here, did you?"

"No," I said slowly without moving. "What have you been doing, Raffles?"

"Who says I have been doing anything?"

He leaned back against the armrest and put his feet on the table. Without taking his gaze off me, he lit the cigarette, threw away the match and started smoking with a playful smile on his lips. His bright eyes were twinkling.

"You did," I said. "You said you needed to take care of something."

"Oh, that’s right! Well, I did. I took care of it."

I waited. He blew out a cloud of smoke and kept smiling at me. My fears confirmed, I groaned and made my way to the sofa where I sunk down upon the other armrest.

"Oh, Raffles! You didn’t!"

"Didn’t what?"

"Didn’t do the thing you promised you wouldn’t do!"

"What was the thing I promised not to do?"

"Steal the coin collection, of course!" I ejaculated.

He burst into a fit of laughter and I looked at him, exasperated.

"Oh Bunny," he said finally. "Have you been worrying about that ever since we parted?"

His voice was suddenly tender and I blushed in my confusion.

"No… only for the past ten minutes or so."

"I see."

With glistening eyes still, he regarded me from under long eyelashes, and I had to ask what the business was about then.

"Oh, I have been up to something," he replied, looking away.

All of a sudden his lips pressed together and the hand that held the cigarette was not quite so steady anymore. He got up, paced a few steps and then turned back to me with one hand on his hip and an expression on his face that I could not quite make out. Without a word, he pointed with his cigarette towards an armchair in which – I had failed to notice it before now – lay a large, dark bag with unknown content. Hesitantly I rose and walked towards it, wondering with some uneasiness what could be in it that made Raffles appear so anxious.

"It’s for you," he said swiftly.

"For me?"

I stopped with my hand reached out for the bag.

"A gift?"

"You may say so," he smiled impishly.

I took the bag in my hands, confounded, and opened it. It was impossible to see what was in it so I reached in, grabbing hold of something large and heavy. Dragging it out of its container I was utterly in the dark for another moment, before I suddenly realised what it was.

In my hands I was holding nothing other than Ms. Harper’s dress, complete with ribbons and laces. I stared at it for some time, unable to speak. Then I turned to Raffles who was observing me unwaveringly.

"What is the meaning of this?" I managed to ask.

"You liked it. I thought you should have it."

I looked at the dress again. In the warm beams from the lamps the fabric appeared cream coloured, almost golden, and the pink velvet a deep burgundy that glistened in the light.

"But I could not take it from Ms. Harper," I said astonished. "She loves it."

"Then I shall return it tomorrow and she will never know. It is yours for the night."

I met his keen eyes again. His smile was tentative but warm, and I wondered if he knew just what I felt in that moment. I uttered a nervous laugh and said:

"But what should I do with it?"

"Well, what do you usually do with dresses?"

I regarded it with a frown.

"Usually I don’t do anything with dresses."

"Bunny, just wear the dress."

I had to look at him to see that he meant what he had said. My heart was beating fast all of a sudden and my head was spinning slightly, but he only held my eyes resolutely in his until I started breathing again.

"You won’t laugh at me?" I said frailly.

"Of course I won’t, Bunny! Do you really think I would go through all that trouble just to make a joke out of you?"

He spoke forcefully, but the look in his eye was sincere. He smiled and in a softer tone he added:

"I will be the perfect gentleman."

 

I changed in the bedroom. With trembling fingers I undressed, piece by piece, before finally laying my eyes on the dress that I had carefully placed on the bed. It was a strange sensation to have it there before me. I felt frightened but excited, nervous but pleased at the same time. For a moment I wondered if it was quite insane to follow through, because the whole situation seemed so absurd. But the comfort of remembering Raffles’ warm smile as I had left for the bedroom, along with the thrill in my heart as I was looking at the dress now convinced me not to dwell on it any longer. Quickly but carefully I seized the garment and stepped into the opening. Luckily I was somewhat smaller than Ms. Harper, and the waist slid around me quite easily when I hooked it in the back. The bodice took some time to get in order, but at last I had the final hook in place and straightened the shoulders and the sleeves into their right position. For a moment I stood completely still, only breathing in and out, before straightening my back and lifting my chin. Tentatively I placed my hands on my waist where the velvet ribbon lay perfectly around it. The hem was stiff and held the wide shape of the skirt without trouble, allowing it to flow like a fountain around me, and even though I could not fill out the bodice the same way in which Ms. Harper could, it still seemed to close well enough around my chest. With a thrill of excitement I turned to the full-length mirror across from the bed.

There I was, eyes glowing timidly but bright and a chuffed smile upon my lips. I never knew that one piece of clothing could make such a difference, but now I felt that it made all the difference in the world. Wearing the dress was so much more than admiring it from a distance. It was suddenly a part of me – an extension of my body, perfectly in harmony with my very being – and I felt utterly and blissfully completed. For some time I stayed in front of the mirror in amazement and self-admiration, slowly moving about, exploring different angles and poses. It really was the strangest thing, precisely because it did not feel strange at all. It was not like one of those disguises that I sometimes had to dress up in due to our chosen profession and that always made me feel anxiously out of place. No, this was the exact opposite of that. It was myself I saw in that mirror; another side that had not been displayed before, but it was me nonetheless. The only thing I found myself bothered with was my hair, which I had carefully flattened with Macassar oil earlier in the evening. However, with some effort I managed to loosen a few locks to stray free around my head. The result was a tad chaotic, but I was still pleased with it. At last I decided that I could not keep Raffles waiting any longer – for I had not forgotten that he was still in the other room – and with a final look at myself and some new risen nervousness I exited the room.

Raffles was sitting on the sofa, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes, which had been on the cigarette case that he was turning around, back and forth in his hands, immediately found me as I entered. For a second he viewed me with an astounded expression. Then he rose hastily and walked up to me with a beaming smile. Eyeing me up and down he stated:

"It fit."

"Yes… yes it did," I answered rather sheepishly.

For some moments we stood there, me blushing in the intenseness of his gaze, until he shifted on his feet and said almost bashfully:

"I have something else that I thought might… hold on a second."

He walked over to the desk and retrieved something from one of the drawers. When he once again stood in front of me, he opened his hand to reveal a delicate gold necklace, a simple but elegant thing with yellow stones embedded in a beaded pattern of flowers. I recognised it as one of the items we had brought from our latest affair at the Cunningham mansion some weeks ago. Raffles now dangled it between his fingers with an impish but affectionate smile.

"I think this should complement the ensemble rather well," he said quietly.

Blushing more than ever, I reached out for the necklace; but Raffles withdrew his hand and stepped behind me instead.

"Allow me."

Carefully, he lay the necklace around my neck and fastened it. His fingers were cold, and for a second they lingered against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. As they let go I turned to him with a “thank you” on my lips, but lost my voice when I saw his face. The playfulness that had been there moments ago were nowhere to be seen, and the expression now was almost vulnerable. The bright eyes met mine and for a split second it appeared he wanted to say something, but then he took a step back and removed the yellow flower from his button hole. With the hint of a smile he reached out and gently placed it in my hair. Then, straightening his back, he suddenly conformed to the part of the nobleman he so eagerly displayed in public but always left behind once we were alone. With glittering eyes and in a genteel voice that thrilled me (for he had never used it towards me before) he said:

"I must say that you are absolutely stunning tonight… Ms. Manders."

The last part he added with a tone so serious it moved me to the very core. Stunned by the depth of his loyalty, I took a deep breath and replied courteously:

"Thank you, Mr. Raffles. I… may say the same about you."

He smiled, dropping his mask for a moment, and I could not help but do the same. With sparkling eyes he stepped forward and delicately took my hand in his, leading me towards the sofa.

"What do you say we sit down for a while, Ms. Manders? I would very much like to hear about your evening."

 

There are so many things we never speak of – so much we never dare mention even to ourselves. But there are also things that does not need to be said out loud in order to be understood, and that night, as I was sitting with Raffles’ eyes unwaveringly upon mine and his attention on every word I spoke, I knew that he had managed to see something deep in my soul that even I had failed to comprehend. Whether he knew what it was, or only guessed what it might be, I did not know. But there was a light upon it now, and in time I would see it more clearly myself. For the moment I was only sure that something had fallen into place and on that autumn night, that was enough for me. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this one day when I experienced some feelings of dysphoria, but I had had the idea in mind for some time due to a post written by @riff-raffles on Tumblr about Bunny experiencing dysphoria and not being able to pinpoint what it was. Being genderfluid myself, I tried to base Bunny's experiences on my own feelings back in the day when I still hadn't figured out that I was not female. I found that it was very difficult to actually describe those feelings in words (and to translate them from an AFAB in the 21st century to an AMAB in the late 19th century), but I hope that I've managed to communicate them at least somewhat! Hopefully someone will recognize themselves in this story, but of course everyone's experience is different.  
> Another note: Even though I wrote this with "genderfluid" in mind, I'm not gonna state that that's what Bunny definitely is in this story. If he is bigender, or trans, or any other identity, is up to you.  
> 


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